The Forest

"Nylea's Emissary" image by Sam Burley

© Wizards of the Coast 2013

I am the one who watches this forest. I keep it safe from the darker influences. Not safe in the way you imagine; birds still eat bugs and wolfs still hunt. No master of the undead can set up residence here. No boglord or marsh-maker is allowed to invade my wood. The fires come at times, but no fires strong enough to take the large trees. Mine is a good and healthy forest, and I will not have it tampered with, not even by you. 

You are a strange breed, like rats. Some of you are plague-ridden and evil of mind. The rest are fine -- a minor nuisance, but you all look the same, so how can I tell? Fortunately the best of you are made clear to me, and I do not harm them, but allow them safe travel. The one who created me makes it clear who she cares about, and though sometimes I dispose of rats she was minorly fond of, they are never her favorites, and she forgives me, since she did not care enough to tell me about them in the first place.

There is one favorite who lives in the forest by Her leave. It is a favorite, but not over me. We do not agree on methods, but She prefers me. Culling the forest is nature's way, and it is Her way. The favorite of your kind discourages forest travel. Destroying paths, planting and growing trees in the path and spreading rumors of monsters and death spirits who live in the forest. I am much more a life spirit than a death spirit, much more beast than monster. 

The first month the new human joined the forest, I culled six humans, carried them out of the forest, and left them. I allowed one to pass, at Her request. The forest-human was not pleased. The human spent days looking for me, but I was not interested in hearing its say, seeing its complaints, or bothering with its fighting. That first month it focused on  sustaining itself and communicating with its gods. Presumably that included The Goddess, or The Goddess' favor had been earned some other way. 

The second month was quite different. The human began traveling after a week looking for me, and over the course of the month, visits had slowed. I culled two humans that month, then none for six months. Blessed souls also stopped coming, and Her favoritism faded for both the human and I, but quicker for the human. I killed diseased creatures, did my job resisting residual unnatural magic and worked to keep the forest strong. Reinforcing the defenses and enlightening some of the animals would help with future visitors. As time went on, the forest grew lonely, but I still held favor. The forest grew strong under my direction. I understand the necessity of culling, but trees are not mine to cull. That is for Her to do, and she did not do it, and the human did not. 

It has been five years since the human joined me, and his favor is gone. The thickness of the forest blocks out most light now. Many less animals live on the floor now. Birds give me news, and when birds are rude to me, I cull them. There are still some squirrels on the fringes, but the wolves and cats have left or died of starvation. If She has not trimmed the forest, then this is how she wishes for it to be. Very little outside traffic comes to us nowadays. The deer who used to live here are gone -- off to slimmer woods, where they can escape predators; they live in places where grass grows.

There is no grass here. The forest needs a fire. I know that now. She is killing my forest. The human lost her blessing, or I lost it and she stopped telling me her preference. I will learn to make fire. I have lost her, but I will not lose my forest.

I am tired. I have done what I can to kill the small trees, but scraping the bark only does so much when there are no animals around to eat the insides. I cannot do it myself, and my claws are too weak to break the trees regularly. People still fear my forest, but it is his fault. I was not the one who kept visitors from coming. The favored visitors would still come if the human had not stopped them. She would still love us if it had not ruined our forest. Her forest and my forest. I have started eating again. It will not be long before I am lost. 

I am frail, feeble, and famished. My life is draining away quickly. I hope I can be with Her again, just once before I pass into the void.

A fire is taking my forest. My forest is burning. Perhaps the larger trees will make it. This is her message to me. This is forgiveness. Other animals will return, and I will be steward again.

I will not be steward again. I am trapped by two trees. Her final mercy is the fire. Her love is culling the last blight this forest has. Perhaps She will choose a new guardian when more blights appear.

"The Forest" Flash Fiction © Ben Clardy V

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.